Weapons of War
by Naburi
Summary: Allied and revived for the Fourth Shinobi World War as the ultimate weapon to destroy Madara Uchiha, Heiwa of the same bloodline is convinced to change allies in hopes to win the war for being the only friend left Tobi trusted for having died before the incident with Rin's death. Little did they know, bringing back a dead lover surely is not a good thing.
1. Weapons of War

Her slender hands cut off his air supply as he gasps, trying to breath from the deadly grip she has over his throat. Yet even then, he still manages to choke out a chuckle, the serpentine eyes he's acquired from Orochimaru's DNA crinkling in amusement.

"Heiwa," he forces out to command. "L-Let go."

Beneath the short locks of her dark hair, the dangerous kekkei genkai in her eyes spins in threatening activation as they narrow with her sclera dark in color. There are evident marks across her right eye marring her features, but it's not enough to cover the faint tear troughs beneath her eyes and the frighteningly cold look she has on him right that moment.

"H-Heiwa—"

She shoves him against the wall with brute strength just before she lets go of him without warning. He crashes, barely standing his ground as he coughs back the air that's once lost in his lungs as he holds onto his now bruised throat with a slouched posture.

"Who are you?" She looks down on him, not a look with anything across her dead eyes.

As he looks up at her, he manages to get back his composure with his back leaning against the wall. Even though he's already prepared himself for this day, he still didn't learn how to tame her. "I'm the one who brought you back . . . You're supposed to be dead, Heiwa, like Fugaku and Mikoto. I brought you back here . . ."

He can't have missed the way a dark look flashes before her red eyes just as she leans closer to him to whisper to his ear, voice enough of a threat. "I said _who are you_?"

He visibly stiffens.

"Kabuto," he hastily answers her now. "Kabuto Yukushi."

She stares at him look at her with cautious eyes that watches her every move. E

ven in an imperfect form she still releases the same powerful chakra she used to have, fogged with a deadly energy. Orochimaru had always wanted her to be his vessel, to be his weapon. But even before he can get to her, death has already taken her away. She died even before he could.

And she died without anyone knowing why.

"You can't hurt me, Heiwa," Kabuto says in a low voice. "You can't hurt the one who resurrected you."

"I will, if I want to." She looks down on him.

"No, you can't," he presses with a harder tone as she finally feels her body freeze. It's not her own accord, she knows that much. She glances at him, and even just a simple action such as that, there's already a threat beneath that red gaze that even Kabuto, who has now control over her, is threatened by that mere look.

"And what do you want from me, Kabuto?" she whispers and Kabuto forces himself to look like he has the upper hand here.

"I'm glad we're finally getting in good terms." He forces a smile, but all she does is glare sharply at him, her kekkei genkai deepening in color as they bear onto Kabuto whom tries not to stiffen again under its gaze. "I want to make a war, Heiwa."

She draws farther away from him just the mention of his words, and she stares him down with a look of something unreadable.

"A Fourth Shinobi World War."


	2. Chapter 2

**A trip to the past. You'll notice that the present time is written in present tense, and the past is written in past tense, just so you know. Enjoy the chapter!**

"I'm sorry, Itachi," Heiwa whispered softly against his locked door. She knew he was there, listening to her talk, to say sorry like she always would. He always did listen, no matter how much she knew he'd already grown tired of her apologies. And as much as it pained her, she hadn't really meant to miss their promised day for an Anbu mission.

She sighed, finally pulling away her hand and herself from his door. It really hadn't been her intention, but as soon-to-be captain, she couldn't turn it down. Not when it was her responsibility, and not when Fugaku's at her back with a threatening glare.

It took a moment with her obsidian eyes lingering on the door before she finally gave up and turned to leave with a sudden slouched form. Her otouto had been the only one who could ever make her feel such defeat.

Just when she was already a few steps away, there was a suddenly creak on the door and a thudded running before a pair of small arms wrapped around her waist behind her, stopping her from walking further away.

"Otouto?" She glanced back to see the smaller body hide away his face on her back.

"I'm sorry too, Nee-san," Itachi quietly mumbled on the back of her shirt, holding onto tighter and burying himself. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to be so spoilt."

She sighed contently, gently prying off his fingers before she went to her knees and faced him. His face was flushed, a little embarrassed and a little sad at the same time. But there were still the tear troughs she loved beneath those obsidian eyes of his. He took so much after her features that it was almost as if she was the mother instead of Mikoto despite her young age of ten.

With a soft smile, she prodded two fingers on his forehead, causing him to stumble back a little before his hands went to his forehead with a whine. She knew he didn't like it when she did it, but she couldn't help but chuckle at his pouting face he probably didn't even realize he was doing.

"Next time, Itachi," she promised him. "Next time."

"But you always—" he was unable to continue on with what he was going to say when she suddenly kisses him on the forehead. Although loving her passionate gesture, he whined again, pulling away. "Nee-san . . ."

"Oh?" She smiled. "Don't you like my kisses anymore, Otouto?"

"I-I'm too old for kisses," Itachi reasoned, although half-lying to himself when he loved it as much as she did when she did it.

"How 'bout my hugs then?" Heiwa suggested with a lazy smile, immediately engulfing him in her arms right after she mentioned it. She chuckled at her otouto's attempts on getting away. But all of a sudden she couldn't help but feel so sad just that minute, and her arms tightened around him as she buried her face further at the crook of his neck.

"N-Nee-san," Itachi tried to catch her attention. "Nee-san, I can't breathe . . ."

"Just a little more, otouto," she told him with a faint voice and she could feel him reluctantly hug her back too. Although only five, her otouto, her little Itachi had already grown so big. She remembered the time she held him so tight during the Third Shinobi World War. He was so small, so frightened and traumatized by the countless lost lives they've witnessed together.

_"You're okay. You're fine. Nee-san is here, Itachi. I'm here."_

She promised to protect him then—protect him from everything that can possibly hurt him. She loved him so much, more than she can possibly love her parents.

"Nee-san?" Itachi softly whispered just before she suddenly pulled away with a smile on her face as she put her hands over his shoulders with a gentle squeeze.

"You know, you're going to be a big brother soon, Itachi," Heiwa reminded him with a sudden sly smile. "You can't always be running after me for hugs and kisses."

His face instantly burned. "But, Nee-san, it's always you who—"

"What's going on here?" Fugaku's voice broke them apart, and with one side glance towards their father, all of Heiwa's gentle emotions for her otouto suddenly went away in a blink of an eye, replaced by a cold demeanor she'd always used with the man that now stood there.

"Nothing," she curtly said, gently pulling Itachi behind her back as she stood up to her feet. She could easily see the way all her otouto's expression turned gray and dead as their father glanced at him with empty eyes. And then to her that gaze landed.

Heiwa hated those eyes—those obsidian eyes that had always reminded her that _he_ was the reason she was made the way she was, that _he_ was the reason on why she'd come this far as an Anbu. She stared at him, suppressing her dark emotions and quelling the want to give in to the silent anger she felt in the pit of her stomach for the man she called her father.

"Don't loiter around in the corridor. You should be training to be an exceptional shinobi like your sister, Itachi," Fugaku grunted, narrowing his eyes as his gaze fell upon him.

He hid as a response, burying himself more behind Heiwa's back with a look of fright, and such actions made familiar disappointment, Heiwa knew too well, to take on Fugaku's expression before he turned to look at her again.

"Heiwa," he called.

"Yes, father?" she mumbled.

"Come to my office."

And with that, Fugaku finally brushed pass them with one last lingering stare. As Heiwa looked down towards her otouto, there was a visible look of sadness in his eyes and also shame. She could so easily notice the way he fidgeted from one foot to another, and she couldn't help herself but feel pity for her otouto.

"Don't worry, Itachi," she softly assured him, to at least ease up his rigid form with a soft touch on his small arm. "He didn't mean any of that."

Instead of calming the tension, his baby features hardened at her words as he suddenly pulled away from his sister. "You know he did, Nee-san. He always does."

She stared at him, unable to respond for the first time. For, after all, although young, she knew he understood very well on what their father had always said to them.

Without a second word, Itachi ran away from her. He didn't run to his room though, instead he ran the other way of the corridor. But Heiwa didn't run after him, because she knew he needed space too. After all, he was still only a child. Hearing that kind of words coming out of their own father's mouth probably burned him.

Because it burned her too when Fugaku did the same to her.

"Oh my, did you two fight?" Mikoto's surprised voice ripped away Heiwa's lingering gaze onto her otouto's back and there she sees her mother holding a tray of food in her hands. "What happened, Heiwa? You hardly two fight at all."

She sighed with a shake of her head. "It's nothing, Mother."

"Was it because of Fugaku?" Mikoto warily pried with a tone of concern. "He's always rough on that boy. Too much expectation, I suppose. I know you went through that phase, but still . . . Itachi's just a child."

"I'll take care of him," Heiwa assured her with a small nod her way before then she offered help to Mikoto. After all, pregnant women weren't allowed to carry things for too long. They said it was bad for them, as a number of people and women who have already given birth said.

Even Mikoto knew that well enough for already having given birth to her and Itachi. Fugaku should know that little fact, and yet he was still ignorant about everything around him—even to his own wife.

Heiwa glanced at her mother's growing stomach, and for a moment her gaze lingered there longer than it was supposed to.

Deep inside there, there was a little sibling waiting to be born just in a few months. It was a little nostalgic, because this wasn't the same on how she felt when Itachi was just inside Mikoto's womb and about to come out.

During Mikoto's pregnancy with Itachi, Heiwa wasn't so much excited to have a sibling—especially if it was going to be a boy. She felt threatened by him, but little did she know that everything would turn out this way, that she'd be afraid even to let go of her otouto when he was learning to walk, even too reluctant to let him hold a pencil afraid he might accidentally stab himself.

She was always a worry-wart. She hardly ever let Itachi do anything for himself when he was a baby, and that she spoiled him too much. Yet it wasn't enough for a father's love, she knew. Because even after all the doting she gave him, her otouto still longed for Fugaku's attention just as she did when she was younger.

"Let me. I'm also going to Father's room," Heiwa offered. It took Mikoto a moment before she finally, although reluctantly, let her daughter take the tray from her hands with a small smile and a thankful nod. "You know, Father shouldn't be so lazy at times, Mother . . ."

"Heiwa," Mikoto said with a look of uncertainty in her smile. "You know your father's always working hard . . ."

"Yes, for the clan," she mumbled, gaze wandering off to somewhere nothing in particular. Mikoto's gaze remained on her as a look of something unreadable flashed there. "Always for the clan, right, Mother?"

For the first time, Mikoto had nothing to say back to her at all.

. . .

"Exceptional as always," the man she despised praised, his voice not quite sounding if he was truly _praising_ her or just merely saying it out of politeness. But Fugaku was never polite. Not when he was with his wife, not when he was with the Hokage or anyone else for that matter. He was always blunt with his words, always speaking his mind because he thought it was better than beating around the bush. "Even exceeding your other Anbu companions. But that's no surprise, is it?"

Her eyes drifted from those hateful eyes, dreading those next words she knew he would always say at some point.

"Because, after all, you are my child."

Heiwa nodded absently, not even quite gratified from hearing those words anymore like she used to. She had always longed to hear those words come out of his mouth before. But, now, they were nothing more than just words she didn't want to hear anymore. Truth is: she wasn't so special the moment he had laid his eyes on her from the time of her birth.

_A girl_.

Those words had struck to Fugaku's head like a dysfunctional cord, reverberating in his head and causing only disappointment to wallow his mind. Such a disgrace to become the head of the Uchiha Clan as the first born, such a disgrace to lead his clan.

For that reason she'd been overlook by her own father just because of her gender and the reason he thought women could never be like men. But she wanted his attention. She wanted to shamelessly wear the clan symbol behind her back in front of her father. She wanted to become acknowledged.

"There is a new mission for you, Heiwa." Fugaku's gaze dropped on her. But instead of looking as she hated such gaze, she held it unflinchingly. "If you successfully complete this mission, you will officially become the Anbu Captain under the command of the Fourth Hokage."

Yet again she nodded his way with an absent-minded presence. Fugaku probably didn't notice it, or he chose to ignore it, because he didn't do anything about Heiwa's blank mind or how the lack of response he got from her.

For so long, she had wanted to have his proud gaze on her like she had now. But like any other person, realization would dawn on her someday, and it did.

Heiwa looked away from Fugaku.

_Because not anymore she wanted any of his praise_.

She'd realized then that when you hold too much power beyond your control, too much knowledge beyond your own comprehension, it could be too dangerous. To graduate a year after she entered at such a young age of five just before her otouto's birth, she'd thought at least Fugaku would spare some interest.

But it was the newborn that was having all that attention. She was angry and jealous of the instant acceptance Fugaku had on her infant brother just because he was a boy, so much so that she wanted it all for herself. And then she showed him on how much of a shinobi she will ever be.

But, without even realizing it all, she'd just stolen everything away from her otouto—the baby brother she'd come to love and adore.

When she was down after Fugaku had downgraded her just because she failed once, his little steps and tiny hands had always comforted her in ways even Mikoto never could. And he'd lie on her lap countless of hours, humming the same tune she would use for him to fall asleep, and then he'd kiss her cheek.

She was a disgrace as a sister and she was sorry.

If she could, she would've thrown everything away now. She'd trade Itachi everything she had and she'd give up her right as heir for him. But Fugaku had other plans. She knew, like all the other clan members, she was just a pawn too for her father to use and he was using her for her abilities and her ties—her ties as the backbone that connected the clan to the village.

She knew how much her father despised Konoha.

But she wasn't her father—she wasn't like him, she wasn't _anything_ like him at all. She didn't love their clan enough to betray their village. More than anything, she loved Konoha close enough for the love she had for her otouto.

If there was anything she could do, she'd kill for her village. And it doesn't matter who it was, as long as they were a threat to what she held dear in her heart.

Her gaze burned at him now as Fugaku began to fill her in with information about her new mission. Although half listening, she absorbed every little detail of what he said. Although she hated it, all she did was nod his way.

Like a puppet.

She was a puppet.

But he didn't control her every move.

. . .

As Heiwa slid the shoji door closed, the moon was already starting to show itself and the sun was beginning to depart. Shadows littered the corners of the corridor, yet even then she couldn't have missed his presence and she couldn't help but sigh, holding back a smile. The tension in her shoulders because of Fugaku had already lifted away with just having him close by.

"Come out, Itachi," she said softly. "I know you're there."

Instead of answering her, he hid more in the shadows, hoping that at least he could have fooled her into thinking that it was only her imagination. To his dismay, Heiwa approached the shadows. He had to shut his eyes, convinced that if he did so, he'd vanish somehow.

"Itachi, you should wear something warmer," she mumbled as he felt her warm hand caress the side of his cheek. "You're cold."

He finally gave up in hiding and he looked up at her gentle face. He had noticed that there had never been a time she was not nice to him, and that it was _only_ to him. She was always cold, if not indifferent, with others.

Somehow he felt special.

Somehow he also felt guilty.

"Are you angry at me, Nee-san?" he asked her, dreading to hear her say yes even though he knew she could never get mad at him for anything.

There was an unsure look in her obsidian eyes before she patted him on the head, a gesture so warm he wanted more. But he refrained himself.

"Of course not, Itachi," she answered him softly. "How could I ever be to my otouto?"

From the open side of the corridor, the orange glow of the sky illuminated a piece of the hall and reflected to their way. Yet even with such a particular color of happiness and vibrancy, her otouto had a look of sadness and neglect over his face. "He . . . He has always talked on about you, Nee-san."

The statement surprised her and the way he looked back at her now with a face of sorrow onto his baby features, she couldn't help the tight clench in her chest with how he looked at her. He had never mentioned it before although it happened all the time, and hearing him say it now caused a painful smile to come to her lips.

Instead of responding first, she sat herself on the perched side of corridor and looked over the sky. It was almost nice to have him beside her watch such a beautiful scene, if it weren't for the tension they have now around them. "Am I . . . Am I unpleasant to you?"

She could feel the way he flinched at her question as he continued to stand there at her side, and although she knew he never meant it that way, she also knew he was contemplating whether if she truly _was_. And the longer he contemplated, the longer she was convinced he did, in fact, saw her as . . . _unpleasant_.

"That's not so bad," she mumbled, ignoring the throb in her chest and forcing a smile on her expression as she looked at him from the corner of her eyes. "Shinobi . . . usually live as hated people, because they are said to be a problem."

His gaze snapped at her as he looked worriedly. "Such . . . Such a way . . ."

He couldn't find the next words after to continue on with what he was going to say. But an expression of regret was enough of a response. He should have never mentioned such a thing. He should be thanking his Nee-san for always being there for him, when their mother couldn't—most especially when Fugaku couldn't. And yet he, towards his beloved sister . . . he just . . .

"Well, to be a top notch is really something to think about. To have strength you have to become isolated and arrogant. Although at first you only sought out what you've dreamed for." She finally looked at him with a gentle smile, and the way he saw how she covered up the pain in her eyes clawed at him like a feral animal.

He felt awful.

It was the first time he have ever seen her slip.

"You see, we are unique siblings, otouto. We've always been. But in order to overcome your barriers, you and I have to continue living together, even if it means hating each other," she whispered, a lingering tone of despair in her voice. But she was too good—too good in pretending that he hardly ever noticed it at all. "That's what being an elder sibling means."

Itachi had never seen her show any sign of weaknesses before. She was always the independent one, the one everybody relied on, the genius and prodigy, the one with high hopes for, and even their mother had always relied on Heiwa even though she was only ten.

Yet even though he never saw it, he knew, somehow, somewhere in that mature and indifferent demeanor, she was struggling just as much as he was. And yet he didn't even do anything about it. He watched her. He didn't say a word.

How could he have been so selfish when he wasn't the only one who's suffering?

"That's why, as an older sibling, when Mother gives birth to our kyoudai, protect our baby sibling," Heiwa told him with the same look she would always give him, a look of warmth and care and love, "not matter what happens and no matter what situation you are in. Because that's what older siblings are for, Itachi. What we are for."

And he could only stare at her, wordlessly. She was always so kind, and he was the insensitive little brother.

Later that night, she tucked him in bed like she always did, sang that same lullaby she hummed him to sleep, not ever mentioning any of what he'd said to her earlier. She continued to be the mature person she was.

She continued to be the loving big sister.

"I'm sorry, Nee-san, for I said," Itachi whispered just before she pulled away.

"Shhh," she hushed him softly, kissing his forehead like she always did. "Go to sleep, Otouto."

He stared at her in the darkness, his small fingers gripping onto the soft bed sheet she'd pulled over him to keep him warmer for the night. "I love you, Nee-san."

He saw her smile softly at him before she finally gave one last kiss on the forehead. Her hand was so warm against his head.

"As I love you, Itachi," she whispered in the darkness. "As I love you . . ."

**Note: This is not an Uchihacest. This is just a love between siblings, just as Itachi loves Sasuke. This may also be the influence Itachi adapted, as to how he acted towards Sasuke in the near future.**


End file.
